


Seraphic Song

by Jakathine (orphan_account)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Folklore, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-13
Updated: 2013-12-13
Packaged: 2018-01-04 12:04:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1080798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Jakathine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>based on a prompt Random_Nexus posted about:<br/>"Legend has it, if you sit under a pine tree on Christmas Eve, you can hear angels singing."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seraphic Song

Sherlock popped his collar up against the cold as he and John walked out of 221b and hailed a cab, which thankfully pulled up quickly. The two stepped inside and Sherlock told the driver to take them to a park that was roughly an hour away. The driver complied and Sherlock looked out the window. John, with a small glance at Sherlock, reached over to gently take the detective’s hand before also looking out his own window, watching as the snow fell in gentle waves. Sherlock squeezed his hand and John smiled to himself. Before they knew it they had to leave the warmth of the cab and venture out into the eerily serene park that was lined with a forest of trees such as oak, pine, and maple. Sherlock released John’s hand and deftly moved over to the swing set, whipping out his magnifying glass and observing the metal for any trace of evidence.  
John shoved his hands in his pockets and stared off into the trees thoughtfully before remarking to Sherlock, “You know, legend has it, if you sit under a pine tree on Christmas Eve, you can hear angels singing blissfully.”  
Sherlock did not even bother to glance up but he did halt in his observing. John chuckled lightly before looking away from the row of trees. Sherlock, finally finished with his scrounge for evidence, straightened up and brushed off the light dusting of snow on his shoulder.  
“I do not think angels exist. How could they?” Sherlock replied tartly as he blew his warm breath onto his gloved hands.  
John turned from Sherlock, a bit disappointed that Sherlock did not even want to partake in anything, especially not on their first Christmas Eve together as a couple. Sherlock must have sensed this for he slipped his hand into John’s and preceded to half-drag the doctor over to the row of trees. John stumbled but kept pace with the long legged detective. Once they had reached the trees, Sherlock scooted some snow off to the side with his shoe and plunked himself down at the base of a large pine. John moved as if to sit beside Sherlock but was pulled into the warmth of his lap.  
The two sat in semi-awkward silence and John felt slight embarrassment arising to his cheeks as he knew that the legend could be merely only part of folklore. A sound caught Sherlock’s ears and he whipped his head around to face the inner side of the forest. John began to hear it too and leaned forward to listen better. From in betwixt the trees floated an ethereal chant that sent pulsations of warmth through John. He could feel Sherlock stiffen behind him with alarm but then in the same instance Sherlock reclined back against the strong base of the pine, reveling in the soothing sensation the voice had over him. Neither could make out exactly the words of the chant but both knew that it was pleasing, so pleasing in fact that they quickly fell asleep in one another’s embrace.  
It was only about an hour afterwards of hearing the tune of Lestrade's ringtone emitting from Sherlock’s mobile did the two awake, cold and aching from their rigid position. Sherlock shook his head as if to clear fog from it and John had a semi-drowsy smile playing on his lips. Sherlock answered his mobile and jumped up so quickly John fell off his lap and into the snow, which woke him up the rest of the way.  
“Come, John! Lestrade has found a lead!” Sherlock exuberantly said as he fixed his coat and started to walk back to the curb to hail a cab.  
“Ok ok.” John called after him, standing and giving the forest one last long look before joining Sherlock at the curb to await a cab.


End file.
